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After another short conversation in French with the girl behind the marble counter, Jameson headed toward the bank of elevators.
Once we stepped inside, the bellman pressed his hand on the button. The top floor. I should have guessed.
“How are you, Charlie?” Jameson asked.
“Very well, sir. It’s good to see you again. And you brought a lovely guest with you.” Charlie nodded in appreciation, his smile genuine. The man spoke perfect English.
“This is my assistant, Alexandra, a very important person in my life.”
“Then I will make certain and take good care of her,” Charlie answered.
“You’re very sweet,” I told him.
“Thank you, miss. If I may say, you are the first person Mr. Stark has brought with him. We are honored.”
The power Jameson exuded was equaled by his genuine care of others. I’d always thought men of extreme wealth were ruthless, horrible versions of the rest of the world. It would seem I had a lot to learn.
When we were taken to the room, I wasn’t certain what I’d expected, but the moment I walked inside, I couldn’t keep from squealing. The Eiffel Tower seemed steps away, the view absolutely perfect. We were in a suite and I was standing in an art deco living room, a small dining area off to the side. I also noticed a set of curved stairs. The furniture was stunning, as artistic as the works of art adorning the walls. I couldn’t imagine what it cost per night, but more than I made in a month.
I moved toward the window, the late afternoon sun providing a perfect backdrop to the entire city.
Charlie appeared behind me, leaning over and opening a window. “This is a very special time of year.”
“It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
“I hope you enjoy your stay.”
I remained where I was, amazed that I was standing in a gorgeous suite in such a beautiful city. The sights. The smells. The music coming from an unknown location. Everything was perfect.
“Thank you again, Charlie. Say hello to your lovely wife. Perhaps we can catch dinner together while I’m here.”
“Oh, Sasha would love that, sir.”
“Charlie, you can call me Jameson.”
“No can do, sir,” Charlie answered, which made me smile. “At least not while on duty.”
“Understood.”
I turned just in time to witness Jameson handing him a wad of cash. The man who wanted me to call him Master was also a generous tipper.
Note to self. You fell into the hands of a good man.
My inner voice was right, but I reminded myself this was a taste of a fairytale, but at some point, I’d be forced to come back to the real world. Girls like me didn’t have all their dreams come true.
When the door was closed, he slowly removed his jacket, his expression one of amusement, his eyes sparkling in the slender stream of sunlight.
“Come with me,” he said in his usual commanding tone.
I trailed behind him as he headed for the staircase. When he opened the doors, another surprise awaited me.
The terrace was breathtaking, incredible outdoor furniture surrounded by views of the city. Vines crawled the exterior wall attached to metal trellises, plants and flowers hanging in boxes secured to the railing. There was even a small fountain on one end, the trickle of water adding to the alluring atmosphere.
While I was normally terrified of heights, the draw to the outlying city was enough to squelch my fears. I weaved my way through the loveseat and chairs to the corner; the pristine illumination of the Eiffel Tower was what dreams were made of. While my grip on the iron railing was tight, I had no fear of falling, especially since Jameson crowded my space, placing his massive hands over mine.
The light breeze added to the ambience, every scent fresh and inviting. But it was the man whose body was pressed against mine who kept me in awe as well as suspense.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered a few seconds later.
